“You shouldn’t have brought skiffs out in—”

   I didn’t hear the rest as I climbed below and ran to the brig, trying to keep my footing as the ship heaved violently back and forth. When I finally made it, I grabbed the key off a hook in the hall and unlocked the brig’s door with shaking hands.

   “The ship’s on fire!” I shouted to the men inside. “You have to get off!”

   I raced back down the hall and was soon overtaken as sailors thundered past, shoving me out of the way. I saw no fire below yet, but I could smell smoke. We emerged into the tempest, and I fought my way over to the rope ladders so that I could climb overboard.

   But there were no boats down below. Lightning flashed, and I just barely caught sight of the skiffs bobbing on the waves—well away from the Sun’s Promise. I turned around and stared. Nearly half the deck was burning now, and wet ash blew at me along with the rain.

   Someone grabbed my arm. “Lady, come on! Follow me!”

   It was one of the ship’s sailors, an older man with dark hair slicked back from the rain. He tugged me over to where the rest of his fellow sailors were frantically untying and lowering dinghies into the water.

   “Give me a knife,” one of them yelled. “This rope is stuck.”

   Before anyone else could act, I handed over my dirk. The sailor used it to chop the rope, and as he was giving it back, a burst of wind hit me from the side. I grabbed hold of the rail to keep myself steady, but in doing so, the dirk slipped from my hand and fell into the dark sea below.

   Sixteen of us scrambled into three dinghies being tossed around on the sea. As soon as we were all in, sailors began to row us away. Through the flares of lightning, I could make out one of the naval ships slowly parting from its mate. The other two dinghies rowed toward it, but mine headed in a different direction.

   “Where are we going?” I called to the sailor who’d led me here.

   “That man-of-war’s coming to look for survivors. Don’t worry, we won’t let them pick you up.”

   “You should go to them—they’re closer!”

   “And they’ll lock you up. We know who you are, Lady Aviel.”

   “We’ll get to the south dock,” said another sailor. “No one’ll notice what’s going on. And it’s not much farther.”

   But it was farther than the warship, and more than once, I thought we would capsize. It was a wonder any of these tiny boats were still above water. “Why would you do that for me?”

   “You saved us,” the first sailor said. “And we know what you do. Ellen Smith is my sister.”

   Mistress Smith. The matriarch we’d given supplies to. Before I could respond, a deafening boom—far more monstrous than the thunder—sounded behind us. Ears ringing, I turned and saw the Sun’s Promise engulfed in a ball of flame.

   “There she goes,” said another sailor. “No surprise.”

   There’s no time, Aviel. The wind’s feeding the fire, and this ship is gone when the cargo lights up.

   Tom had known the ship would explode. “What was in the cargo?” I called to the sailors.

   “Ammunition,” said Mistress Smith’s brother. “Gunpowder. Bullets.” Another explosion sounded, as remaining cargo ignited.

   Chaos reigned when we reached the south dock, crowded with other small boats. The wind and rain made moving on land almost as difficult as at sea, and debris blew all around us. One warehouse’s roof had been torn off. The old sailor nodded a goodbye.

   “May the Six keep you safe, Lady.”

   “And you as well. Thank you.”

   As I made my way through the city, I saw that much of Cape Triumph had hunkered down against the storm. Shutters and boards covered glass windows, and only a handful of people struggled through the tempest, often stopping to cling to a lamppost or building. Wisteria Hollow suddenly seemed as great a journey as sailing from Osfrid to Adoria. Spying a solidly built blacksmith’s shop, I hurried to it and crouched under the door’s overhang, holding tightly to a post as rain and wind beat against me. I closed my eyes and waited. And waited.

   After what felt like days, the wind and rain began to slacken. The calm didn’t fool me. I remembered it from the storm at sea, but I took advantage of the lull and started running. I took the long way via the highway, rather than risking the wooded path by the marsh. Fallen branches littered this road as it was, and I tripped multiple times. The old pain in my ankle flared up.

   The storm began to resume just as Wisteria Hollow came into sight. I picked up my speed and was relieved to see the trellis still standing. The wind shook it violently as I made my way up and fought against the storm shutters. At last, I got the window opened and tumbled inside.

   Back in my room, I peeled off my soaked clothes and was astonished to see the wig was still in place. It was a testament to my hairpin skills. I bundled up in a flannel nightgown, took a few extra blankets from Adelaide’s bed, and then dove into mine, wondering if I’d ever feel warm again.

   I’d pushed myself past exhaustion, and even the raging storm couldn’t keep me from falling asleep. But as I drifted off, one thought kept replaying through my head.

   Tom had left me behind.

   He’d left me behind, knowing I’d probably die. He’d left those sailors behind to die too. Elijah had gauged the ship’s explosion correctly, but Tom hadn’t wanted to risk his cargo.

   No matter the profit at stake, I always look out for my own.

   A loud, rapid pounding sound startled me out of sleep. I jerked upright, wondering if I’d dreamed it, and then it boomed out again. The front door. I glanced out the window and saw the lavender sky of sunrise.

   More knocking.

   I pulled on my robe and made my way to the top of the stairs. A couple of other sleepy girls followed me. Mistress Culpepper, fully dressed, hurried through the foyer and opened the door. An annoyed Jasper joined her.